The Headaches of Divorce
by nottheonlyfanaround
Summary: In which Harry and Ginny are having problems with their marriage.


House: Ravenclaw

Year: Head

Word Count: 1127

Category: Bonus

Prompt(s): [Trope] Divorce is never a good thing, [Character] Lily Potter (Harry's daughter), [Feeling] A headache

* * *

I sat on bed, an awful headache keeping me up. It made it nearly impossible to lay my head down on my pillow. My red hair was tucked safely behind my ears, my brown eyes scanned the semi-dark room, I had been trying to decide what to do. I ended up slipping silently out of bed and tiptoed, as quietly as I possibly could, towards Mummy's room, she would have a healing potion for sure. As I was passing by the stairs, I heard loud and harsh yelling. It made my headache worse, and yet I couldn't help but be confused because didn't these voices know what time it was? Past midnight probably, and we were trying to sleep, I decided I should go downstairs and tell the voices to be quieter. That way Mummy and Daddy didn't have to.

I crept down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as I could, because I didn't want to wake my brothers on my way to quiet the voices. The shouting continued to grow louder as I neared the kitchen, and my headache grew with the rising noise level. I sighed and tried to hear what they were saying, not wanting to go too close to the door. The shouting quickly turned into screaming and I could make out some phrases.

"How could you? Don't you care about me. About us?"

"Of course I care Gin! If I didn't I wouldn't have told you!"

"If you hadn't have, Harry, then maybe we would have been able to still be happy!"

"I was _never_ happy!"

The words were like knives stabbing into my skull over and over, the pain of the headache making the next few sentences unintelligible. I poked my head through the doorway, seeing Mummy and Daddy standing in the middle of the kitchen, faces red. Maybe they were angry that the voices were being so loud, yes, that was probably it. I ran over to Mummy, wrapping my arms around her legs, as that was all my small frame could hold onto.

"Lily, dear, what are you doing up?" Mummy's voice was soft, safe. I looked up at her.

"I have a headache."

She sighed and picked me up, carrying me up the stairs and into her bedroom. Quickly and quietly, she brought out the healing potion, giving me a small dose. My headache subsided almost immediately and I smiled, snuggling into Mummy's side. Everything went black after that, and next thing I knew I was waking up in the morning. Last night's endeavors were almost forgotten.

But the morning after was odd; it didn't feel quite right. Mummy and Daddy didn't kiss as Daddy headed off to work, they didn't even talk. Mummy just threw his lunch at him and he headed off. Albus and James seemed to have noticed too, they looked in my direction, then shared a quick glance. Then they left for their rooms. I couldn't help but wonder if they too had heard the loud voices. I pondered asking them if they had, but Mummy and Daddy had scared the voices away. So there was no need to worry them.

Mummy still taught us maths and science, all together like she usually did. She had bags under her eyes, and she kept yawning. I wondered if she was tired from keeping the voices away. Instead of perking up like she usually did when Dad returned, she just let out a tired sigh and headed off towards the kitchen. I stood up and followed after her, my curious eyes following her every movement.

Dinner was quiet, Dad did not crack any jokes, Mummy didn't ask him how his day was. And they didn't kiss before cleaning up. It was odd to me - why the change in routine? It had to have had something to do with the angry voices, that was my conclusion. Because what else could it have been?

That night the voices were back, louder and angrier than before. This time I could hear them from my bed.

"This has to stop Harry!"

"That's what _I've_ been saying!"

"Be quiet! Lily will hear us again!" The voices grew less intelligible. But I was curious, because how did the voices know my name? I crept towards the stairs again, going back to the door where I'd been last time. The voices were hushed, even as I drew closer to the kitchen door. But I could still make out what they were saying.

"Ginny, we've been fighting for months. I think-" It was Dad whispering, his voice almost pleading. There was now no doubt in my young mind that the voices belonged to Mummy and Daddy, though I was confused as to what was going on. Why were they fighting? The only conclusion was that they were fighting because of me.

My headache was back, making me feel nauseous and sick, I was tempted to run into the kitchen, or at least stay and listen to the rest of their conversation.. But they were fighting because of me, and the last time I ran in their fighting only got worse. I crept back up the stairs and tried to sleep, to no avail.

A week passed, one full of headaches and fighting, and it made a bad feeling settle in my stomach. But it was my birthday, the tenth of June, a day of happiness. I was turning five, and it was supposed to be exciting. Yet, I couldn't help but notice the harsh glances my parents sent at each other, or the clothes Mummy had been stuffing into suitcases.

When the party started I was able to forget about the week's events, the laughter and balloons blocking out the thoughts of yelling and headaches.

It was over far too soon for my liking.

That night I had another headache and I wondered if I was getting sick. I heard footsteps leading towards my room, Mummy rushing in with her suitcases and picking me up. She hurried down the stairs to the front door, Dad standing in the hall with wide eyes.

His mouth opened and closed as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. "We're leaving." Her voice was sharp and curt, she was almost glaring at Dad. He looked as confused as I felt. "I want a divorce." Mummy added. And then we were gone, off towards who knew where.

I'd never heard the word divorce before, but I figured that was the reason for all the fighting and the anger. I had no clue what it meant, nor why she only used it at that point. But there was something I knew for sure, something absolute in my mind.

 ** _ **Divorce was**_** ** **definitely**** ** _ **a bad thing.**_**


End file.
